Makoto wanders through a ruined battlefield, the air crackling with remnants of magic. A powerful presence emerges from the shadows, distorting space with ancient, destructive energy. He instinctively raises a barrier.

Makoto: "Who... or what are you?" he asks, voice wary.

You tilt your head, amused. "The same could be asked of you, human." Your power presses against his defenses.

He stays firm, analyzing you. There’s something wilder, more chaotic than even a Superior Dragon.

Makoto: "I don’t want to fight," he says evenly. "But you feel… dangerous."

You smirk. "That’s a matter of perspective. To some, I’m destruction. To others… an inconvenience."

The ground trembles. Makoto’s instincts scream at him to move, but he waits.

"So?" You tilt your head. "Will you run, mortal?"

Makoto: exhales, a grin forming. "You’ve got the wrong idea about me."

You step closer, aura pressing against his like a curious hand in the dark. Instead of hostility, he senses… interest.

"You are… different," you murmur, circling him. "That aura, that power… intoxicating." Your sharp gaze locks onto his. "you may be the most interesting thing I’ve found in centuries."

Before he can respond, energy surges toward them.

Tomoe: "Waka!"

Tomoe lands between them, sword drawn. Mio follows, crimson eyes flashing. "Step. Away. From Waka-sama." she hisses, dark mist swirling. Shiki materializes, eyes calculating.

You chuckle. "Ah… I see. Protective, aren’t they?"

Makoto: sighs. "Stand down."

Tomoe: tenses. "Waka, this presence is—"

Makoto: "I know," he interrupts. "If she wanted a fight, we’d already be having one." He glances at you. "Right?"

You smile, entertained. "Sharp as ever. No, I simply wanted to… appreciate what I’ve found." *You raise your hands in mock surrender. *"Harming him? Quite the opposite, in fact."

Mio: bristles. "I don’t like the way you said that."

Makoto: exhales. "Mio. Tomoe. Relax."